Making Time
by okaie
Summary: As Keely and Phil lay on the shore together, she can't help but contemplate what time really means in the context of love.


**Making Time**

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned some sort of time machine, wouldn't that be nice? But I guess I can be happy without it. :) Just like I guess I can be happy enough not owning Phil of the Future.  
**

**Rating: K+**

**I got inspiration for this one from CraftyNotepad, after we talked about something similar. I'm still not completely convinced, but I'm getting there. Anyway, I'm not sure if it's my best or not (I've been out of practice with writing much with all the craziness in my life, and when I got the inspiration today, I just went at it.). It doesn't feel completely like a story… more like a musing of sorts. But I hope you enjoy it anyway. :) Review please!**

She smiles at him as he talks animatedly, and nods dreamily. Her grin widens as she studies his handsome face; the way his chestnut eyes crinkle slightly as he talks, and laughs, and smiles; the way his nose crinkles as he pauses, deep in thought; the way the corners of his mouth turned as he smiles lightly in contentment. Yes, very handsome when his face shines, emanating his happiness, their happiness.

"Keely?"

Her eyes turn up, so she can look into his eyes, reflexively smiling. "Mmm?"

"Have you listened to a word I've said?"

"Of course," she replies with a laughing grin, "you were just talking about how somehow you like the feel of the rougher sand here."

He nods, smiles sheepishly, and resumes.

She had been listening, she reflects, though not intently as she could have been. She smiles a musing smile: she had been too caught up in him. Her hand creeps through the sand, feeling the fine, choppy powder run through her fingers as she lays her hand on top of his, weaving her fingers between his to feel the sand at her fingertips once again. "Mmm…" she hums wistfully, her sounds fitting in with his words, though her thoughts laid far from his.

"Which would you prefer, do you think?" he asks her. "The really soft stuff they manufacture in the future or the rougher stuff here." He means the sand.

She shrugs off-handedly before deciding. "The rougher," she murmurs, looking down at their touching hands. She curls her fingers gently, so her fingers can run through the sensation of the sand. "I like texture." She looks up and smiles adoringly at him as she scoots closer to him, letting go of his hand, so he can put his arm around her as she rests her head against his chest. "I love you," she whispers quietly, her head burrowing deeper into his chest as his other arm swings around her to hold her securely.

"I love you more," he breathes in her ear, resting his chin on her shoulder, hunching up uncomfortably only to be closer to her.

Her head turns to look at him, a challenging, yet loving, ferocity sparking in her eyes. "That's not possible."

For a moment, he says nothing, continuing only to peer into her olive eyes, urging a faint blush to crawls up her cheeks. "Yes, it is."

She rolls her eyes at first, wanting to show him her disbelief, but bites her lip as she turns away, her heart, their heart dancing inside. She burrows deeper, a shiver running through her spine despite the warm sea breeze fanning across their faces. The fuzzy feeling of contentment rolls through her being, as she allows her eyes to relax into a satisfied stupor.

As she relaxes, her brain hums along reflectively, to the soothing waves that crash along the shore. She can't help but think she wants to stay this way forever, and ever. "Don't let me go," she murmurs so softly, that her words never reach her own ears, but it was never meant to be heard, only meant to be hoped.

She never thought that she would be here, laying on the sand at dusk, blissful in the arms of her love. After all, she was born over a hundred years before him. A hundred years. Her lips tremor slightly as she holds in her incredulous giggles. Now that's an age gap. She'd be dead by the time he was born.

They had grown up in different times, initially. But together, they found joy in learning about their time. Maybe that was all that mattered; having time together.

Her arms wrap around his, winding his arms closer around her. It didn't matter. He was here, now, with her. And even though they started off different, they could end off the same. It didn't matter that truthfully, in reality, that she was over a hundred years older; she loved him, and he loved her.

She looked out into the ocean and smiled. Even though in the future, grains of sand will have changed, it would still exist. And like her sand, their sand now, she liked the differences, the textures, that made _them_ special.

Time changed things, but there were always things that would be the same. She would always be Keely, and he would always be Phil, and they could still share now, their future, with each other. It didn't change anything. His mouth would always curve the same way when he smiled contently, his eyes would sparkle the same way when he was happy, his nose would still crinkle when he thought. Yes, time didn't matter when together, they made their own time.

"I'll love you for forever and a day," he whispers in her ear, his hot breath tickling her contently.

Her head turns and she catches his lips against hers. "Love you for forever and two," she mumbles silently with her lips crushed against his, her breath overrun by the waves. But now, in their own time, love didn't need words, and love didn't care about time, because with love, love makes it's own time.

**What do you think? Good, bad, terrible? Does it make sense? It does to me, but of course, I wrote it. Don't hold back, unleash it on me, but try to make it constructive, please. Thanks for reading! I hope to read your review! :)**


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